


The Adventures of Alayn Zar

by Zeible



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 15:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16244798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeible/pseuds/Zeible
Summary: A Thousand Years after the battle of Endor, the Jedi Order lays divided. A new Republic has risen from the ashes of the Galactic Alliance while the Sith linger at the edges of the Galaxy. Many other powers now vie, some familiar and some new. In this new world, a single Jedi and her allies are all that stand between the Third Republic and destruction.





	The Adventures of Alayn Zar

The sea-green dot below them didn’t strike Alayn as something impressive, not at this distance. It looked more like one more pale marble in a black sky full of them; one more tiny speck in the darkness. Of course, her Jedi training had taught her how much she should treasure these small sparks of life, especially in this cold and uncaring galaxy. This particular planet though, had earned her ire for more than a few reasons.

 

Kuat wasn’t known for its charity to the weak and helpless. Quite the opposite, in fact: where most planets in the wealthy Core were principled enough to have eliminated poverty (like Chandrila had) or mitigate it at least (as Alderaan and Corellia did) Kuat seemed to relish in its barbarity. Like some era-displaced relic out of time and space, Kuat was a feudal world. The elite noble class ruled from the skies above in their magnificent spaceyards, while the serfs toiled on farms on the planet’s surface and in its legendary Drive Yards.

 

Of course, this work could easily be handled by droids who had no issue with working long and hard for little or even no pay at all, but that wasn’t something the rulers of Kuat were interested in. Much more important to them was making sure that they had someone to rule over, and the only way to do that was to make sure others were doing the work they didn’t want to do. Even if it cost Kuat dearly in terms of wealth and interstellar prestige, nothing mattered more to its nobility than holding their power on their sacred homeworld. They didn’t particularly care about what some liberal cloudhead on Coruscant thought about their lifestyle.

 

She sighed, and looked away from the window. It wasn’t worth it to dwell on Kuat’s failings, Alayn had to remind herself. It was more important to help people when and where she could, and this job would involve that as much as any in the Outer Rim would have. At least, that’s what her Master always reminded her. She had trouble believing it sometimes though.

 

Alayn Zar was a Jedi; as with most Jedi women, she wore no makeup, and her hair was merely styled after function rather than cleaned up and coiffed as it would be in the upper classes on many worlds. More notably to many people, particularly the chauvinists in the Core, she wasn’t human. Her grey skin and yellow eyes marked her as an alien; despite her otherwise handsome features, to most humans such traits made her look far too inhuman to see as attractive. Across her face were patterned intricate geometric tattoos, in the style of the Mirialans. Rather than the standard Jedi robes, Alayn wore a smart-looking tunic and trousers, both black, with a light cape fastened around her neck and draped over her shoulders. Beneath it at her side hung a curved lightsaber with four clawlike points extending around the emitter. If not for that one wouldn’t think to recognize her as a Jedi at all.

 

She made her way down the _Moldy Crow II_ ’s metallic main hallway, leaving the viewing room and heading up towards her Master’s meditation room. The ship, despite being named for an ancient starship was actually very advanced and comfortable. It was named after a ship used by her Master’s ancestor, who had the distinction of being a Jedi Councilor in the second iteration of the Jedi Order. In this day and age of the fourth iteration, such lofty ancestry held some weight—even if it was from the vanishingly brief, ruinously optimistic pre-Vong days rather than some more ancient or grand period.

 

Alayn stood at the durasteel door leading into her Master’s meditation room, and knocked on it roughly. “Master Katarn, are you napping again?”

 

A woman responded in a groggy voice. “Mmm...definitely not,” she said, sounding suspiciously as though the knocking had awoken her, “I am as awake as an Alderaanian bird early on Solstice Morning.”

 

Alayn rolled her eyes. “Maybe a non-observant wock, sure.”

 

There was an exaggerated groan from the other side of the door. “Ugh, damn you and your ornithological knowledge…come on in.”

 

The door slid open, and Alayn stepped inside. True to form, Shayla Katarn was sprawled out naked and barely half-awake lying on her sleeping mat, her blanket having been tossed aside. Neither of them paid much attention to Shayla’s state of disarray as she got up and made her way around the room to make breakfast, though Alayn always did appreciate her Master’s excellent physical condition. Tall, crimson-skinned as many Zeltrons were, and with long flowing black hair, she was a vision even with her dishevelment.

 

Not that there was anything unprofessional between them; Alayn wasn’t even sure if Shayla had interest in other beings, at least in a sexual sense. Despite popular perception, many Zeltrons were entirely celibate, some deliberately so and others because of a simple lack of interest in sexual activity. The Zeltron culture encouraged passion in any of its forms, not simple sexual activity; that was the real way Shayla defied cultural norms. Her relaxed, down-to-earth attitude made her a poor Zeltron, but an excellent Jedi.

 

With her morning recaff brewed, and a plate of synthesized eggs and bacon sitting on a plate on the room’s little table, Shayla finally threw her robes on and sat down at the table. She beckoned for Alayn to sit across from her.

 

“So, tell me Alayn,” she said, sipping from her cup of recaff, “What’s our mission here?”

 

The younger Jedi chuckled, recognizing the old trick her Master used; she’d do this before every mission to make sure the Apprentice knew the full itinerary. More than that, she did it to test Alayn’s patience, and to see how many stupid questions she could ask.

 

“We’re here on Kuat to investigate a break-in at the Rothana Heavy Engineering corporate headquarters, ma’am.”

 

“Oh,” Shayla said, sounding as though she was surprised by this information, “Well why would a pair of highly-trained and skilled Jedi go and investigate some white collar crime like that?”

 

“Well,” Alayn said, practicing her patient tone of voice, “Rothana Heavy Engineering is a highly secretive and powerful military manufacturer, a producer of powerful arms, armour, droids, combat vehicles, and even starships. So there’s a chance someone broke in to steal some top of the line designs for some criminal purpose, or worse as part of a war in some remote sector.”

 

Shayla nodded, her mouth taking on a disarmingly clownish grimace. “Sounds bad. Still, who needs Jedi for something like that? Why not leave it up to Republic investigators?”

 

“Because Rothana is _also_ a highly secretive corporation, that makes use of its control of several Outer Rim and Chiss Space worlds to keep prying eyes away from dubiously legal projects. This is an entirely legal chance for us to make sure they’re keeping things level before they can clean their books, and if need arises to give some tips to proper Republic authorities letting them know they should investigate.”

 

Her master’s face broke into a small smile. “I’m never going to throw you off with that face, am I?”

 

Alayn shook her head. “Absolutely not, ma’am.”

 

“I hope it’s at least amusing?”

 

“Very much so ma’am,” Alayn said, her tone completely dry, “Most amusing.”

 

Shayla chuckled sadly and she stood up and stretched. “Alright, I’m going to hit the ‘fresher. I’m assuming you’ve been awake for an hour, and already bathed and ate?”

 

“Very accurate, ma’am; I’d say that’s more of an inference than an assumption though.”

Her master stopped as she reached the room’s threshold and swung her head around in an almost drunken fashion, rolling her eyes, “One of these days I’m going to get you to lighten up, I promise you.”

 

Alayn smiled. “You’ve gotten me to laugh before, ma’am. We’ve known each other for ten years, though—you’ll need to try some new tricks.”

 

The older woman just smiled back, her orange eyes glinting a bit as she looked at her beloved pupil. “Here’s hoping you’ll be teaching someone else tricks of your own soon.” Then she headed out of the room and made her way down to the ship’s primary refresher unit.

 

While waiting for her Master to return, Alayn made her way back down the hall to observe Kuat as they drew in closer. The mission, such as it was, should be a milk run for the two of them, given how well it played into their respective skill sets. Alayn with her silver tongue and endless patience, Shayla with her underworld contacts and interminable determination. They should have this in no time.

 

Yet, for some reason, the operation filled her with foreboding…. She wasn’t prone to Force premonitions—nor was Shayla, for that matter. She had to unlearn the normal instincts of fear and anxiety that the twenty years of mistreatment had instilled in her before being rescued by Shayla, and so she’d trained herself to ignore those lingering urges to think everything was going to go wrong for her. Still…

 

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Alayn said out loud, not quite knowing why.

 

With Shayla cleaned and finally properly awake, the two of them piloted the _Moldy Crow II_ towards the space station Sienar Tower, a corporate starport owned by Rothana Heavy Engineering. A truly massive facility, consisting of several pods arranged around a central cylinder, it was impressive in its size and design. It wasn’t much of a destination for the casual crowd, but for the super rich it had more than a few perks; a massive artificial lagoon to swim in with perfectly simulated environment, a luxurious and enormous hot springs area for the corporate elites and nobles of Kuat to bask in, several entertainment venues, and more than one well-to-do bordello, which tended to be the only places one saw non-humans on the station.

 

That last fact was naturally going to make things that much more fun for Shayla, who never missed a chance to irritate some bigoted humans and to rub her status as a Jedi in their faces. For her part, Alayn preferred not to have to deal with humanocentrists at all, if she could avoid it. She was patient, and more than once had convinced bigoted Core Worlders to reconsider their views, even got some to openly recant. But Kuat...Kuat was going to be tricky. She had an easy enough time dealing with nobles on Alderaan, certainly, but the Kuati nobles were a special brand of haughty. Hopefully the Rothana representatives would be offworlders or commoners promoted above their station.

 

The ship’s com buzzed, and a clear feminine voice came through the other side. “You are approaching Sienar Tower. Do you have a reservation?”

 

Shayla flicked on the microphone. “This is the _Moldy Crow II_ , with Jedi Master Shayla Katarn and Apprentice Alayn Kar aboard. We should have a reservation booked by the Corellian Enclave?”

 

There was a pause, and then the voice rang out through the com again. “Ah yes, I have you marked for a three-week visit. Please direct your ship to our Secondary Docking Bay, and disable your engines. Our tractor beams will handle the rest.”

 

When the call had ended, Alayn directed the ship to the docking bay mentioned and flicked off the engines, then turned to look at Shayla. “Is it just me or does it seem odd that they’d want us to dock in the Secondary Bay?”

 

Her Master shook her head, and sighed. “Not strange at all; for one thing, the _Moldy Crow II_ isn’t exactly in keeping with the general aesthetic of these rich bastards’ starships, so they want to keep the complaints down. For another thing, well...we may be Jedi, Apprentice, but—”

 

“—We’re still ‘aliens’ to these humans.” Alayn said stoically, finishing her Master’s sentence.

 

“Right, well… I’m hoping that won’t be too much of an issue on this mission.”

 

They sat in relative silence, except with a few casual observations about the planet’s geography from Alayn and some comments on memorable encounters with secret Exchange bases or Dark Jedi on various spots of Kuat’s surface from Shayla, until the ship finally touched down in the station’s docking bay. The two Jedi unfastened their safety restraints, and, carrying their packs, made their way down the docking ramp.

 

Greeting them as they exited the ship were a male Muun, two worker-class Geonosian wearing ill-fitting Kuat Drive Yards security uniforms, and armed with SoloTech blasters. The Muun bowed his head. “Welcome, esteemed Jedi. Sienar Towers is most honored to have you in attendance.”

 

The Jedi bowed in turn, Alayn a bit more fully than Shayla.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Alayn said, “We’re pleased to be here. With luck, our visit will be the bridge uniting distant shores.” Alayn had dealt with Muuns before, and enjoyed speaking to them; the Muuns were a once-powerful race whose corrupt business practices were proverbial, a millenium of domination by the Palpatine Empire and later the Fel Empire after them had reduced their splendor and power somewhat, but in her eyes it had clearly done little to break their well-earned pride. They were courteous, intelligent, and eager to help; in exchange for some help in turn. But that was the way of the Galaxy.

 

The Muun smiled, and Alayn caught a look of pleasant surprise in his eye. “I see you’ve read Hego Damask’s treatise on interspecies diplomacy. It’s very rare to hear that one quoted these days, let alone by non-Muuns.”

 

Shayla patted Alayn on the back, and chuckled. “My Apprentice has more knowledge in her head than all the libraries of Abregado Rae; I don’t even know where she learned that one.”

 

The Muun looked at the two of them in a moment of confusion, and then laughed. “Forgive me, Master Katarn but for a moment I believed Miss Zar was _you_ ,” he regarded Alayn with an intrigued look, “She seems quite ready to be a Jedi Master already, as far as I can tell. Then again, I am no Jedi; what do I know?”

 

Alayn saw her Master wince a bit, before smiling weakly. “In my mind, she’s quite ready. There’s just some formalities to go through before that can happen...ah well,” Shayla said, cutting off her own train of thought with a wave of her hand, “That’s not why we’re here, is it?”

 

The Muun genuflected, and motioned for them to follow. “This way, please.” The Jedi fell in step behind him, while the Geonosians flanked them. “You’ll find your quarters very comfortable; one of our penthouse suites, overlooking the station’s lagoon. The view is magnificent, I’m told: you have your pick of the simulated beach and sky, or a clear and unblocked view of Kuat’s most thriving metropolitan area on the continent of Dreba.”

 

“That sounds wonderful,” Shayla said, sounding more enthusiastic than she likely actually was about that, “And when can we meet with the representatives?”

 

“They will be meeting with you in Conference Room 6B, on the sixth floor in five standard hours. You must understand, scheduling is difficult enough for such busy men. They couldn’t sit here all day waiting, not even for Jedi.”

 

“Fair enough,” Shayla replied suspiciously as the group turned a corner and began making their way up a spiralling staircase, “And why are we parked down here, if our room is so high up?”

 

There was an awkward pause as they climbed, with only the sound of the three mammals’ feet coming down on the steps and the buzzing of Geonosian wings. It was finally broken by the Muun.

 

“Because that room has specific provisos to prevent non-humans from using it,” the Muun answered at last, sounding utterly miserable about it, “and those cannot be circumvented even by Jedi.”

 

Alayn sensed that a change of topic was needed, and quickly.

 

“If I may ask,” Alayn said, looking at the Geonosians and then at the Muun, “what are your names, and how did you come to work here?”

 

The two Geonosians looked at her in surprise, then at the Muun. Before he could speak though, Alayn raised a hand. “I am fully fluent in Geonosian. You two can answer for yourselves.”

 

They looked at her in astonishment, hard as that could be to read on the insectoids’ faces. <I am Third of Thirteen>, the one to her left answered at last, in the buzzing and clicking sounds of the Geonosian language, <and this is my bondmate, Fifth of Thirty.>

 

The Muun cut in. “They’ve been working with us for ten years, ever since the recent unpleasantness on Geonosis.”

 

“You mean Raith’s Massacre?” Shalya asked, sounding a bit incredulous, “That’s just ‘unpleasantness’ to you?”

 

The Muun regarded her sadly. “Not to me, perhaps. But that is the language of business, Master Jedi.”

 

Alayn gently patted her Master’s shoulder, and whispered to her. “No need to harass this lot, I can sense they’ve been stuck here quite against their will.”

 

Shayla’s expression softened, and she nodded. “Fair enough.”

 

“In answer to your previous question, Miss Zar,” the Muun said, his pace quicking as the group reached the turbolift’s platform at last, “my name is Caar Tonith. Before working here on Kuat, I was the chief operator of Bastion’s Third Imperial Bank, and then the manager of the Intergalactic Banking Clan’s chief outpost on Corellia...before circumstances led me here.”

 

He pressed the call button, and looked impatient as the group waited for the turbolift to finally descend to their level.

 

“I understand,” Alayn said, knowing better than to inquire further. “I am sure you will walk on marble roads again someday.”

 

Tonith looked at her with a sad smile. “I doubt it, but I appreciate the concern all the same Master Jedi. Ah, our ride is finally here.” The turbolift had indeed finally arrived, and the group huddled into it, before riding all the way up to the station’s top floor in silence, save for the dissonantly chipper muzak pouring in over the turbolift’s speakers.

 

Stepping out of the turbolift, Tonith showed them to one of the penthouse suites, and true to his word it was luxurious indeed. Aside from the massive primary living space, there were two separate Refresher units complete with large bathtubs and an impressive looking array of soaps and scents lining the nearby shelves. Beyond that, it had an enormous holo emitter linked directly to the HoloNet, allowing for viewing of whatever news or entertainment holos were desired, a pair of master bedrooms, a small “outdoor” pool on top of a balcony overlooking the lagoon, and a number of other rooms Alayn didn’t even fully understand the purpose of.

 

Quietly, she was wondering how much all this was necessary for the Jedi; of course, it hadn’t cost their Enclave much to acquire it given the low rent prices afforded to Jedi on all Republic worlds by Senate law, though the Kuati most likely wouldn’t have deigned to meet with them on any other level of the station at any rate. Still, all the luxury sat ill with her.

With a few more polite words and some exchanges of Muun poetry Tonith and the Geonosians departed. To Alayn’s surprise, her Master embraced her from behind, and to her own consternation she felt a rush of excitement as she felt the Zeltron’s warm, muscular body holding her close. Her heart raced faster at the heat of Shayna’s breath on her neck, and soared at the sensation of her soft hair brushing the sides of Alayn’s own face.

 

“Don’t let yourself get too worried, Alayn,” Shayla said, sounding uncharacteristically tender. “Like I said, this’ll be easy.” Releasing Alayn from the hug, her Master threw off her robe and ran out into the outdoor pool, not caring to put on swim clothes. Not that she’d packed any for this trip—or ever, for that matter.

 

The younger woman ignored the pain in her heart and decided instead to turn on the HoloNet to observe the news. Nothing too interesting was going on; the Senate was in session overseeing the recent debate of whether to formally rename the old Alderaan system, a debate that was as usual going nowhere. On the fringe plenty of activity was buzzing, but amongst all that noise nothing stood out. She was about to flick the HoloNet off and put on a historical program when an emergency news bulletin came on in the Inner Rim news section.

 

“This just in,” a Twi’lek reporter said, “News of bacta shortages are alarming Republic Medicine and various shipping companies alike. Thyferra’s government has no explanation for this shortage, though they are denying the possibility of piracy as a cause…”

 

The rest of the report was a restatement of some recent events Alayn had already heard about to put the news in its context. The news that substantial amounts of bacta were missing was deeply troubling though. The Republic’s medical centers were dependent on Bacta, to say nothing of the Outer Rim worlds without proper medical infrastructure. That wasn’t even getting into the disastrous effects a Bacta shortage would have on much of the Galactic economy, given what a lynchpin it was.

 

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door, and she briskly strode over, checking the door cam to see who was there. It was a new model protocol droid, one whose expressive face and fluid movements made them nearly indistinguishable from a living being, save for the metallic sheen and glowing electronic eyes, lack of certain physical attributes, and synthetic voice.

 

She opened the door. “Hello? Who is calling?” She hadn’t been expecting the Kuati for several hours, and it had been thirty standard minutes.

 

“Ah yes, hello my lady,” the droid said, his tone quite chipper, “I am A-9JX, human-alien relations. I trust you are Master Katarn?”

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m her Apprentice.” Why were so many people mistaking her for her master today, she wondered.

 

“Ah, then you must be Miss Alayn Zar! Excellent, you were the one I was sent to speak with!”

 

Alayn cocked her head to one side. “Really? Why me?”

 

The droid brightened. “My lady, you have struck the fancy of a great many people on your travels across the Galaxy! My master, the esteemed Count Raymus of House Thul of Alderaan is hosting a conference here on this station!”

 

“A conference? Regarding what?” She was skeptical of this offer, to say the least; she could count at least five groups her and Shayla had caused serious trouble for in the past few weeks. The Dark Jedi cult on Glee Anselm, those Nightsisters on Dxun operating out of Freedon Nadd’s tomb, the cartel of Vorogga the Voracious, the Anoat Pirates, Vector Raith the Warlord of the Arkanis Sector...

 

“Regarding an end to the alien discrimination on this very planet, my lady! Among other issues, actually; there’s the subsidies paid to many of these companies by the Republic government that my Master finds _highly_ ethically dubious, to say nothing of the downright illegal continued presence of feudal customs on a planet that has been a member of both prior iterations of the Galactic Republic…”

 

 _Now_ she was interested! This sounded more reasonable with some context; conferences like these were hard to plan, and having a Jedi with no small diplomatic talent (Which she knew herself to be, no matter how much she tried to protest otherwise) was a great bonus. It was likely he was attempting to blindside the Kuati with this taking place in their own world, so it was no surprise that he hadn’t already secured a Jedi. Of course, if it was just going to be him, her, and a few token Senators from longtime rivals of Kuat like Chandrila and Corellia it was unlikely to get anywhere...

 

“Who else will be in attendance?”

 

“Why, the esteemed Senators Jen Marama, Tana Kart, Ordal Traxis, and Frix Veltix, of Chandrila, Caamas, Serenno, and Coruscant respectively- and that’s only the Senators in attendance!”

 

Her eyebrow raised- she hadn’t heard anything in particular, but all these Senators had departed on deliberately obscured diplomatic business lately. It was the presence of Veltix that most intrigued her in this bunch; Chandrila’s presence went without saying, the Caamasi had long decried the cruelty of Kuat’s government, and Alayn leapt at any chance to take down a Core World a peg or two...but Coruscant? Coruscant was the one Republic World with an even more elitist and humanocentric policy than Kuat did, save for perhaps Eriadu. That wasn’t even getting into the sheer weight and prestige held by the Senator of Coruscant- if Frix was getting involved this conference had a chance of accomplishing something.

 

“Alright then,” Alayn said, sighing, “I’m convinced. Just let me get some of my things- is the conference being held here, on Sienar Tower?”

 

The droid shook his head in a way that was intended to look organic, though it ended up being merely discomfiting. “Oh no. The meeting is being held on Soontir Station, an older station that is usually for more discreet meetings like this.”

 

Alayn nodded- that’s what she’d expected. “Alright, then just let me grab a few things before we go.”

 

She made her way to her pack, and left a written note on a piece of durasheet for Shayla explaining what she was doing. There was no need to bother her master over this, since she’d just feel bad for not coming along. Shayla was unnecessarily self-conscious sometimes over her own lack of tact, and Alayn was reminded of the incident in the docking bay; she had been mistaken for a Master herself, no doubt reminding Shayla of the calumny currently directed on her by the Council of the Corellian Enclave, to whom the two of them answered.

 

Leaving those dark thoughts aside, Alayn packed up a few essentials in her pack and cape pockets (A most convenient use for capes, in her opinion) and made her way out of the room. Following the droid, she was led to one of the station’s tertiary hangars and directed her into a small shuttle. They took off discreetly; Alayn noted that there was no pause to actually communicate with the station command. Most likely the ship was using a transponder code to blend in with the cargo ships departing the station with waste and other items.

 

After a short flight, the ship approached Soontir Station; as A-9JX had said, the station was quite old and had definitely seen better days. While it didn’t look to be in a decaying orbit or anything, it was clearly rusted in many locations, and had a very dated aesthetic design, looking like something built during the brief existence of the Palpatine Empire, or perhaps earlier in the waning days of the First Republic. Still, as she could tell from the view of its hangar the life support was still functional. She reached out with the Force, and sensed a few lifeforms aboard...as well as something odd. It was hard to place- not the Dark Side, or something more eldritch to her, it was an emptiness. Not a Wound in the Force, but simple emptiness...

 

“I have been instructed to inform you,” A-9JX started, “That ysalamiri have been employed at the behest of Senator Frix, to ensure you do not use the Force to unduly influence negotiations.”

 

Ah, that explained it. The ysalamiri were reptomammals from the planet Myrkr, who had developed the ability to nullify the ability of Force Sensitives as a defense mechanism against the Forceful predators known as the vornskr. They had come to be employed fairly regularly in diplomatic meetings where Force users were in attendance, though exporting them and their needed nutrient frames was very expensive.

 

The ship sat down in the hangar, and Alayn followed 9JX out of the ship. The droid led her through a narrow hallway and had her take a seat in a small waiting area outside the conference room. There she waited for a few minutes, before she felt the Force disappear from the area, and 9JX re-entered the room.

 

“The Ysalamiri are in place now, Master Jedi. You may enter the conference room.” He then ushered her in, though he didn’t follow her. Strange, conferences like this usually needed protocol droids…

 

“Oh, wait! Before you enter,” he said, blocking the passage with his door, “I shall need your lightsaber. I’m terribly sorry, but no weapons in the conference room.”

 

She narrowed her eyes; _that_ was the first suspicious thing she heard. No Senator, no matter how much they distrusted the Jedi, would think them capable of assassination or cold-blooded murder. Regardless, it was far too late to back out now, and she simply handed the blade over. Smiling, the droid retracted his arm, and she moved in, hearing the door close behind her.

 

The room was fairly small, with two audience boxes with three rows of seats each, all empty of course. In the center of the room was a single oblong table with eight chairs around it, and seated at them were seven beings- a Caamasi, two humans she didn’t recognize, an Ithorian, a Yinchorri, a Quarren, and a human Senator whom she recognized as Senator Frix of Coruscant.

 

“Ah, greetings good Senator!” Alayn said, relief flowing into her. It was unlikely to be a trap if the Senator was here. As she drew nearer though, something seemed off about all of them. They were perfect physical matches, certainly but...the body language was stiff. And none of them were saying a word, merely staring at her.

 

Suddenly, the Caamasi lept at her, not screaming or hissing as the mammals did in the rare circumstances they were brought to anger, but eerily silent. She dove out of the way, thanking the gods that she wasn’t so reliant on the Force that her instincts would be rough without it, and saw the other Senators rising from their seats, all pulling out blasters.

 

With a split-second motion, Alayn pressed a concealed button on her belt that activated a green force field around her; a personal deflector shield she wore at all times. It wouldn’t hold off those blasters forever though, and very quickly they opened up a hail of crimson bolts on her. Moving quickly, she leapt into one of the audience rows and pulled off her cape, laying it besides her.

The cape, naturally, held more than just a tremendous sense of style and a tendency to get caught in automatic doorways; it concealed her collection of holdout blasters, grenades, ion blasters, and her disassembled bowcaster. This was typical for her though; after all, Shayla was a Weaponmaster, and a Jedi Weaponmaster never relied on lightsabers alone. For her part, Alayn _never_ thought much of the lightsaber as a weapon to defend against blaster fire compared to a personal deflector shield, and that didn’t get into the superiority of ranged weapons in almost all forms of combat to the lightsaber.

 

Deciding quickly, Alayn pulled out her holdout blaster, having no time for the bowcaster’s complicated assembly. She opened fire on the mob of assassins and managed to land a hit on the Ithorian, who stumbled backwards, but to her shock didn’t fall to the ground.

 

Her position now clearly alerted to the group, and the Caamasi skittered along the floor towards her in a way that was _not_ natural for the species. Moving quickly, Alayn pocketed her thermal detonators and dashed in a crouched position across the row while the Caamasi jumped onto her discarded cloak. It bored into her with iridescent yellow eyes, and she unleashed a few more rounds with her holdout blaster at it before jumping out of the row.

 

The other assassins were beginning to circle around where she’d been, and moving quickly Alayn kicked over the table for cover, before tossing a primed thermal detonator at the mob. The table rocked a bit as the detonator went off, and to her horror a severed head landed on the floor in front of her..

 

It was the Ithorians- except not really. Half-burned, she could see now that it was in fact a droid head with cloned organic material around it. If it hadn’t been for the Ysalamiri, she would’ve sensed it. What’s more, she would’ve realized that her anti-machinery ion weapons were what was called for, rather than her anti-personnel holdout blaster and thermal detonator.

 

Peering over the upturned table, she saw that most of the droids had been destroyed, though one of the humanoid ones had merely been rendered skinless. It was clearly a common combat droid, rather than a specialized infiltrator as she had initially suspected. In fact, this design looked familiar…

 

Just as she was readying to take a shot at the droid, she felt powerful hands wrap around her throat and toss her across the room. Slamming into the durasteel wall shoulder first, she felt her left arm break, and clenched her teeth to hold back the pain, before falling to the ground. Looking across the room, she saw the “Caamasi” skittering back towards her, and took a few shots at it with her holdout blaster, which all missed by meters.

 

Springing to her feet in spite of the pain, she ran back into the rows where she’d left her ion weapons, and barely avoided the claws of the droid now chasing her. She was but a few meters from her cape and weapons before she felt herself grabbed again from behind, this time by steel hands. Gasping for air, she realized the humanoid combat droid had anticipated her movement, and now she was paying for it. Vainly, she tried to pull out her holdout blaster again and blast the droid now strangling her. She began to fade, as her brain shut down and hypoxia set in. This was it, she realized, this was the end. An ignominious death to some droids probably sent by a criminal cartel for revenge, and all because she’d been too foolish to verify it was genuine…

 

Just then, she felt something astonishing; the Force had returned to the room! For whatever reason, the Ysalamiris’ force-nullifying effect was gone, and she could draw upon its power once again. Calling on the Force, Alayn called her ion grenade to her hand, and flicked its switch. Even at close range an ion grenade caused only mild discomfort to organics, but it was lethal for the droid whose hands were gripped tightly around Alayn’s neck.

 

Unceremoniously, the droid immediately stopped tightening its grip, and, calling on the Force for tremendous strength, she pried the grasping hands off her neck. With a start, she remembered the false Caamasi was still running about, and most likely more wary now that she’d clearly regained use of the force. Reminded of the pain in her arm, she called on the Force to nullify the pain in her arm and induce rapid healing. Then, she picked up her ion blaster and sensed around for a trace of danger…

 

There across the room the Caamasi disguised droid stood poised to attack, moving in serpentine fashion towards her. Evidently it was not a model with enough blaster operating programming to shoot her with one of the other droids’ discarded blasters, and she thanked the Force for that, as firing one-handed was a struggle with the comparatively heavy ion blaster. The foe was too quick, too fast for her to shoot, and it slithered about the room until it was a mere meter away from her. She calmed herself, and took aim-

 

-but found she needn’t have bothered, as at that exact moment from the direction of the room’s doorway a hail of crimson blaster fire burst through the flimsy barrier protecting the row of seats, tearing the droid into tiny pieces of superheated metal and smoking flesh.

 

She turned around to see who her rescuer was...and to her surprise, it was yet another droid. Not simply any combat droid, either; this droid looked _ancient_. While the plating was new and polished durasteel, the bits of visible endoskeleton were rusted and pitted, and the droid’s head was covered in antique sensor units, crowned with a dome resembling the conical straw hats worn in many human civilizations. The droid carried what she recognized as a BlasTech heavy repeating blaster, itself quite the antique— though nowhere near as much as the droid was.

 

Their duty finished, the droid placed the blaster on the floor, and turned to regard Alayn with their four glowing red eyes. With a surprisingly human-sounding vocabulator, they spoke with a masculine voice.

 

“Are you alright, Master Jedi?” Their... _his_ tone was smooth, deep, reassuring, and very old sounding, and filled with deep concern.

 

“I’m injured, but not badly,” she said, offering a weak smile, “I owe you my life, yet I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

 

He held up a hand, and pulled something out of one of his compartments; Alayn’s lightsaber. She called it back into her hand with the Force, and saw that it hadn’t been damaged. “How did you get this?”

 

“I intercepted the protocol droid on his way out of the station, and in answer to your previous question; I am Jengo, combat droid and mercenary.”

 

Given his appearance, she had to ask. “How old are you, Jengo?”

 

He chuckled, something Alayn couldn’t recall a droid doing before in her entire life. “Older than you’d believe. You can trust me on that.”

 

“Who sent these droids?”

“These...assassins,” he said, motioning at the scrapped machines with what sounded like disgust in his voice, “Were sent after you by the Anoat pirates, in an attempt to secure revenge for your thwarting their plan to steal the tibanna gas supply of Calrissia on Bespin.”

Ah, there was the enemy she was looking for; the Anoat pirates were a well-equipped and dangerous outfit operating in the remote Anoat sector, mostly making raids on the shipping lanes to the lucrative Bespin system. Their success made them grow bold, and they mounted a raid on the enormous floating metropolis of Calrissia in an effort to steal its supply of tibanna gas. With some help from the Jedi Master K’Kruhk, Alayn and Shayla had managed to defeat them, and drive them back to their hidden base on Hoth.

 

“I had been pursuing their agents for my own reasons, investigating a connection they might have to a terrorist cell on Thyferra. In the process, I learned about their plot to kill you; I would have simply warned you, but the Kuati refused to let me enter Sienar Tower, and all my messages to you through the HoloNet appear to have been intercepted.”

 

“And so you came here and dealt with the ysalamiri once you realized I had fallen for their trap, before coming in to help me finish them off.”

 

He bowed his head, looking ashamed. “I confess, I initially believed I was too late; without your lightsaber or the Force, I had expected you to die. I was ready to leave the station when I heard the explosion, and ran to the adjacent room where the ysalamiri were stored.”

 

She walked over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling as wryly as she could manage. “It’s unwise to underestimate a Jedi, Mr. Jengo.”

 

He cocked his head at that. “Not used to being a “Mr.” More often I’m just “droid” or “Scrapheap”,” he waved his hand, “But at any rate- I admit I’m surprised at your skill. Aren’t you a...what’s the term…’Padawan’?”

 

Alayn winced a bit. “We don’t use that term anymore- it’s just ‘Apprentice’ now.”

 

“Ah, I see. There’s a bacta tank prepared if you need it, and I’ve anonymously alerted the station’s owners to the duplicity of their erstwhile clients. Will you be needing any further assistance?”

 

She was puzzled by the question. “No, I don’t think so…”

 

He nodded, and activated some kind of cloaking device. Disappearing into nothingness, Alayn could not even hear his footfalls as he walked away.

 

Before Alayn could process what had just happened, a man in a shabby corporate uniform ran up to them. “Master Jedi! I’m Haro Santhe, owner of this station. I’m so deeply sorry about this! We had every reason to think this was a legitimate delegation...we even had verification that Count Raymus had authorized this…”

She raised her good hand. “I’m not interested in pressing charges, nor in besmirching your reputation. I would like to know exactly how this was pulled off, though…”

 

The nervous little man gave an explanation of events from his perspective; the reclusive Count Raymus Thul had paid upfront to rent the room, and had sent in word as to the purpose. The “Senators” had shown up as promised, and the IDs they used seemed fine, so the security team saw no need to make biometric scans, which are normally just used to verify genetic identity in any case.

 

“And the blasters? How did they acquire those?”

 

“My security team has informed me that six blasters were missing from the store room, I’m still looking into how they got in and out of the room without anyone noticing…”

 

“And what about the pirates themselves? Did any of them come in person?”

 

He brightened, then shrank sheepishly. “They did, actually; I’m still not sure why they were here. More mysteriously, some droid tied them up and left them sitting outside the station’s brig. They’re sitting in there now, if you’d like to interrogate them.”

 

Alayn nodded; she had to admit, the plot was well-constructed; Shayla had probably already found her note, and was likely expecting to deal with the Kuati herself, as she had learned from experience Alayn could be distracted at “boring” conferences like these for hours at a time. In that amount of time, the pirates would be able to hide any evidence of her death and escape. What’s more, the Ysalamiri were a brilliant trick; obviously they made the droids’ task easier, but more than that their presence would mask her death in the Force, possibly indefinitely. With that, it would be much harder for Shayla or any other Jedi to know precisely what had happened.

 

Haro led her to the station’s battered turbolift and took Alayn into the station’s small brig. Sitting in a trio of cramped looking holding cells were three mangy looking humans, who were all looking at the Jedi in disgust. All of the cells were held shut with an array of durasteel bars, supplemented with force fields to protect against any additional tricks.

 

One of them, a red-haired man with a thoroughly ruined face stood up and stepped to the edge of the cell and glowered at Alayn, clutching the bars of his cell. “You bloody Jedi...why couldn’t you just roll over and die, huh?”

 

She didn’t rise to his bait, and simply asked. “What did you think killing me would accomplish?”

 

He narrowed his eyes and let out a scream. “Argh! Krifing Jedi doesn’t even have the decency to get _angry_.” He stormed away from the cell’s edge and sat on his bed. “I’m not talking to you- and neither are my boys.”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “I _can_ get angry, if you’d like. Or we can hand you over to the Kuati police, if you’re interested in trying your luck with them.”

 

The men said nothing, though one of them smirked. One of Haro’s guards sighed.

 

“They’re always like this,” the guard said, rubbing the back of her neck, “Refusing to answer questions and not terribly concerned about being handed over to authorities.”

 

Alayn reached out to them with the Force, and gently probed their minds. Not going deep of course, but simply sensing their feelings and outer thoughts. She found they were all filled not with anger so much as confidence and a degree of satisfaction, as if in a job well done.

 

“That’s unusual,” Alayn said, finally speaking, “They really don’t care about being handed over.”

 

“We’d see about deporting them,” the guard said, looking a bit frustrated, “But to tell you the truth we have no idea where to send them. Obviously they’re wanted on Bespin, but there’s good odds of them being rescued by buddies on the way there.”

 

“What about their homeworlds?” Alayn offered, considering the way many human-dominated worlds put in requests for citizens imprisoned offworld.

 

“Yeah, no dice,” the guard said, frowning, “Actually we can’t even _find_ their homeworlds; these guys found a quality slicer some time, because there’s not a trace of them on the HoloNet before they started their little operation in Anoat.”

“That’s not too uncommon on Outer Rim worlds,” Alayn noted, “Though it does strike me as a bit surprising.”

 

“Right,” the guard said, continuing, “They came in via a New Alderaan Shipyards yacht. The registry’s counterfeit and I can’t even find clearly when it was built; it’s like there’s no leads for us to work with.”

 

“How are you even sure these are Anoat pirates?”

 

“Because they told us,” she said, sounding bemused, “Damn idiots couldn’t help but brag. ‘Oh we’re with the Anoat pirates, you better watch out!’ ‘We’ve got the death sentence in twelve sectors ooooooooh’”

 

Alayn sighed, recalling their boastful behavior when they fought on Bespin. “At any rate; the memory cores of those combat droids should still be functional, and I have already dropped off the memory core of their protocol droid with one of the other guards. I expect some information on where they acquired these machines will be found.”

 

“Something unusual about them?” Haro asked, looking a bit more relaxed now.

 

“They were Rothana...this may have something to do with why I’m here on Kuat.”

 

Before anyone could ask her what that was, Alayn sensed a familiar presence coming up the hallway to the brig; turning around, she saw a very relieved looking Shayla almost running towards her.

 

“Alayn!” Shayla exclaimed in relief, “I’m so glad to see you’re ok!”

 

She motioned to hug Alayn, but the latter raised her good hand to stop her. “My arm’s broken, so I’d rather not be hugged.”

 

Shayla looked concerned for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Hold still, hon.”

 

Reaching out gingerly with her hands, Shayla held Alayn’s broken arm. A warm sensation ran through her arm and into her body as Alayn felt her bones mending and the bruised flesh heal. When her Master had removed her hand, she could feel the arm was completely healed. For a moment, Shayla’s hand found Alayn’s, and she seemed reluctant to remove it.

 

The intimacy was thankfully disrupted when Haro stepped forward and cleared his throat, causing Shayla to recoil in surprise.

 

“Are you Master Shayla Katarn?” He asked, looking between the two of them with a curious expression. Evidently he was less awed by the display of Jedi healing than Alayn would have expected him to be.

 

Shayla nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. “I am, yes. This is my Apprentice, Alayn Zar. We’re here on another matter, staying over at Sienar Tower. What happened here? I only found out you were here a few minutes ago, when I sensed you were in pain and fear. That stopped pretty quickly so I can assume you dealt with it?”

 

Alayn nodded, and recounted the events leading up to the assassination attempt, ending with the interaction she had with the mysterious droid.

 

Shayla’s eyes went wide at the mention of Jengo. “You met Jengo? What was he doing here?”

 

“You know him?”

 

“Yeah I know him! I first met him a decade and a half ago on Utapau. We’ve run a few missions together, though I’ve seen a lot less of him the past ten years.”

 

Haro seemed to scoff. “I wouldn’t think a Jedi Master would associate with a rogue droid.”

 

Shayla shot the man a deadly look. “I wouldn’t think someone like you, who nearly got my Apprentice _killed_ with your incompetence has any grounds to judge who a Jedi Master should or should not associate with.”

 

The small man grew even smaller, and he raised his hands defensively. “I meant no disrespect, Master Jedi! I just meant that, well...it’s unusual!”

 

She rolled her eyes at that. “At any rate, Jengo’s a good friend, Alayn. I’m glad you met him.”

 

“Do you have any idea how old he is?”

 

“No, I never presumed to ask. I think he was built to fight a Sith Lord but whether it was Naga Sadow, Lumiya, Darth Brontus or some other Sith Lord I have no idea.”

 

Alayn nodded. “So, what are we going to do now?

 

“Get back to Sienar Tower and wait for the meeting, what else?”

 

Alayn looked at her, a bit surprised. “What, really? We’re not going to put the meeting on hold?”

 

Shayla shook her head. “No reason to; the pirates are caught, the attempt on your life thwarted, what’s there left to do?”

 

“I mean....I suppose nothing. Something just seems to still be amiss.”

 

Shayla smiled at her. “You always worry too much. You need to be less mindful of every little thing going wrong right now. Think about the future, instead!”

 

“The future?” Alayn asked, a bit thrown by this line of thinking.

 

Her Master’s smile widened. “Let’s just say that I’ve finally managed to persuade a certain Jedi Master to accept your Knighting, once this mission is finished.”

 

Alayn’s mouth dropped. “You’re...you’re serious? This is the last one?”

 

“Well, this and then the Trials, obviously— but obviously you’re more than ready for those. Franky, at 28 years of age you’re long overdue.”

 

“To be fair—” Alayn started, before being cut off.

 

“No, there’s nothing fair about it, and you know it,” Shayla said, “That bastard Jor…” then she trailed off, as both she and Alayn remembered they weren’t alone. Their non-Jedi guests were looking away, Haro was even whistling awkwardly in some poor attempt to drown out the sound of their arguing.

 

“Let’s...talk about this on the shuttle.” Shayla said sheepishly, and with that they departed.

 


End file.
